A few days ago a good friend of mine who has been facing some health issues, commented about the myriad of things that run through one's mind when facing your own mortality. She commented that should anything awful befall her (pthh, pthh, pthh) she would take comfort in knowing that her family would at the very least be well fed, this because of the delicious meals that showed up on her doorstep recently when she had undergone a procedure.
This has got me thinking. I have no doubt that my family would be well fed. That much I am sure they could manage on their own, as Hubby certainly knows his way around the supermarket, the kitchen, and the take-out menus. My concerns, should anything awful befall me, (pthh, pthh, pthh), have more to do with hygiene than nutrition. Will Curly Girl's hair ever be washed, conditioned and combed through properly, or will she live out the rest of her childhood with a ratty ponytail? Will Paddy boy be destined to walk around in "floods" with his belly hanging out because he has no undershirt on and his father doesn't seem to notice that it's time to move up to the next size clothes? Will First Son's nails be cut short, or will he become known as the dirty-fingernail kid? Will any of them be seen wearing shoes AND socks again? And what about Hubby? I picture lots of wrinkles and stains in his clothes, and really long, unruly eyebrows. I shudder to think what my family might become in my absence.
I have mentioned to Hubby, somewhat in jest, that I will need to make a provision in my will to make sure that these things are taken care of, but I don't actually have the means. So please, if you are my friend and you want to do something for me, promise me that in the event of tragedy (pthh, pthh, pthh) you will leave the casserole home and instead head on over with the hairbrush, the nail clippers and the iron! Oh yeah, you might want to bring a dust cloth too!
Monday, March 24, 2008
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1 comment:
Kind of morbid thoughts, but I definately volunteer to be on Curl Patrol...pthh...pthh?
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